


Hardlys

by kyburg



Category: Wild Wild West (TV)
Genre: Gen, Silly People You Meet On The Way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyburg/pseuds/kyburg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story written mostly as a memory of an encounter outside of a mission - take a typical tag from any episode and expand it into 2,500 words.  Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hardlys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zaganthi (Caffiends)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiends/gifts).



_“Jim, do you remember the night we met Celeste for the first time?” Sitting next to a roaring fire in a lodge snugly nestled in the hills of the gold country of California, Artemis Gordon raised the plate of cookies from his lap, frowning as he tried to choose which of the delectables to eat next._

_“Do I. Mind if I tell you I’d rather not go through one of those nights again, if you don’t mind?”_

_“Not at all, not at all. Here. Pignoli cookie?”_

_“Don’t mind if I do.” Leaning from his own armchair, the light from the fireplace and the few candles they were allowing themselves on this night made the blue of James West’s eyes one of the few colors visible. But the expression in his eyes was happy as he took two of the pinenut-studded cookies from the plate. “Are these from today’s post?”_

_“Oh no, no! She brought them here herself, just a few hours ago as we were getting settled in. You were paying a visit to that so-and-so, don’t you know.”_

_On assignment for President Grant again, it might be nearly Christmas and it might be nearly impossible to get to Auburn, but West had managed to nip the offending issue and wrapped it up without even the need for Gordon to do more than find – and appoint – this charming little cottage. “The So-and-So sends her regards.”_

_Stoneware mugs full of hot cider, liberally dosed with whiskey sent by Grant as a holiday gift completed the repast as the two of them looked into the fire as Gordon searched the plate again trying to decide on his next treat._

_“Is she well, Artie?”_

_“Beautiful, happy, plump and rich as a sultan.” Taking a snickerdoodle from the plate, he handed it to West as he bit deep, rolling his eyes in pleasure. “Brought me my share of the take again…and again, she left without taking it with her. What to do.”_

_“I thought the dishwasher’s assistant was terrific. How do you top that?”_

_“Not a clue. Going to eat the rest – ahem, MY share of the rest of these dainties and ponder the possibilities, my friend.”_

_“Her husband?”_

_“Devoted, hale and so proud of his lovely wife, I envy him.” Catching West cocking his head in mirth at him, Gordon added. “Just a bit. I wouldn’t trifle with the wife of Long Zhen if I valued living a long and happy life. Which I do.”_

_“Good man. Has it only been three years, Artie?” The logs popped and sent sparks up the chimney as West poked it._

_“A bit more, we did meet her in the spring, remember.”_

_“Ah, yes. I remember. Hugo, Colorado – we were there to see the place get incorporated…and Fred Harvey was just opening his first restaurant.”_

_“And the cat got out.”_

_“And you wouldn’t let it stay out because you wanted it to get out in Denver.”_

_“Jim, it was pouring out, I couldn’t!”_

_Chuckling at the memory, both men quieted and grew somber as the events of the rest of the night came back to them._

It was the kind of rain that got inside your boots and down the back of your neck, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it. Cold, soaking and after the sun had gone down – blinding.

“Tell me we’re leaving. Please – “

Making shushing motions with both hands as he closed the train car door behind him, West came into the parlor, awkwardly pulling a box tied with string out from under his rain slicker. “All done, just waiting for clearance from the station – what’s your hurry, Artie?”

“It’s not me, it’s him!” Holding his hands over the spirit lamp at his table, Gordon threw a look over his shoulder at the large orange tomcat sleeping in his chair by the lit stove. “He hates the rain, and the cold.” Looking West in the eye, he added, “And he sprayed my boots in his displeasure. Can we get to Denver by morning?”

“Artie, just let the cat out – he’ll be fine, and if he really wants to come back in again, he will!” Said cat, noting that the door had indeed opened, had cocked open a weather eye. “See?” Moving back to the door, West put the box on the table next it and turned the knob. Much as he had expected, the cat took immediate interest in the hardware of the matter and waited impatiently for West to complete the action, darting outside in spite of the weather the moment the door opened. 

“Jim! We can’t leave without him – “ 

“Hang on, hang on – give him a minute! Here, have a cookie. Present from Fred Harvey – they were giving them out at the grand opening today.”

Torn between leaving the train car to face the elements…and an opened box of sugared nuggets, Gordon quickly took one as he grabbed his own rain slicker. “Jim, I’m surprised at you – how could you possibly – heeeeeey, this is delicious!” Stopping dead, he looked back into the box and then up to West again. “Harvey House? We have to ask who the baker is – that was incredible. Are they all that good?”

“Find out when you get back – “

“Find out when WE get back, you mean. You terrible creature – “

“Look who’s talking.”

Stepping out into the darkness, West grabbed one of the train lanterns hung by the door as they set out to see if either of them could even see the cat – West thought he saw a flash of orange darting underneath the train car where it was at least drier and was about to mention the same when Gordon nudged him, pointing across the rails to the still lit windows of the brand new Harvey House next to the station. “That where those cookies came from?”

“The same. You should see how nice the girls who work there look in their uniforms. Look, there’s one now – “

“Without even a raincoat on? Jim, something’s – “

Standing on the tracks nearest the station was a small figure, dressed in a black dress with a white apron and winged cap, looking down the tracks away from them. Hugo wasn’t a bustling metro center, but it did have an active rail yard with trains coming and going nearly all the time.

Like the one in motion to come into the station – right where the girl was standing.

“Artie, she’s going to get hi – “

“NO!”

His ears ringing from the bellow of Gordon’s voice, West found himself having to decide whether to stay where he was or risk being hit by the train as Gordon ran right into the path of the train, hopping the rails as he went. “No, no, no, NO!”

The train engineer began blowing the whistle just as Gordon whisked her off the tracks as the train barreled past them and West waited just on the other side, dancing in place. All he could see until the train passed was two figures in the dark holding each other so close there was no space between them; Gordon’s head crushing the white cap, the white cuffs of her sleeves resting in the small of his back. “No. No, no, no.”

When he could get them in motion again, West escorted Gordon with the girl still holding fast to him back to their train car, stoking the stove and finding towels and blankets while Gordon stood in the middle of the room, neither of them making an effort to part. “Artie, let go. Neither of you can breathe.”

Startled, Gordon did as he was bid as West came up behind the girl with a towel, handing one to him as well. “Right, right. So, what have we here, hmmm?”

Unpinning the cap from raven hair, West dropped the towel over her head and gentle began to blot some of the water from it. “Here, honey. Dry off and tell us what’s going on. You’re safe here. I’m James West, this is my partner Artemis Gordon…we’re here on business from government.”

Small hands came up to take over. West stepped back to take off his own rain slicker and hung it up. “Artie, you okay?”

“Sure.” Sponging the worst of the water off, Gordon guided the young woman to a chair as soon as the towel covered the wet parts of her dress, pulling one over to face it and sat down in it. “Can I trust you to put on some water for tea?”

Raising eyebrows, mouth twitching into a grin, West backed away with hands raised in surrender as Gordon began to unwrap the girl from the towel.

Glossy black hair, thick and wavy that shone in the light of the stove and lamps. When she raised her head to look Gordon in the eyes it was with limpid black pools that had no pupils he could see, almond-shaped with thick lashes and eyebrows. A nose a bit too broad, a bit too flat – generous mouth with full lips the color of a carmine lacquered box. High, broad cheekbones with skin darker than his own. “Oh, honey.”

There was no reason to contact the rail authorities. Nobody was going to miss this girl. One of the Celestials, to be sure…but clearly, that wasn’t all. And young…if she was in her teens, she was a long way from being out of them.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry.”

“Do you have a name?” West held another towel in from of the stove before handing it her himself. The eyes darted up to meet his as she accepted it, a small smile beginning on her lips.

“Mr. Harvey couldn’t say my name, so he called me Celeste.” It was a small voice, sweet but low.

“Your mother was Chinese?” Gordon’s question was answered with a quick head bob. “But not your father.” The smile faded as her face fell and she shook her head.

“I don’t know who my father is.”

“That’s not your fault.” Another warmed towel dropped around her shoulders as West briefly rested his hands there, and then left in search of more.

“No, it’s not.” A light touch under her chin brought her attention back to Gordon looking intently at her, smiling. “For what it’s worth, I suspect he was a fairly handsome fellow – you’re very pretty, Celeste.”

“Thank you.” But it sounded automatic, as if she’d heard it often and had been coached on how to respond to it. Swallowing hard, her head dropped again.

“You know, I’ll bet she’d like one of those cookies.” Bringing the box back, West opened it and offered it to her.

“They’re VERY good.” Taking one eagerly, Gordon was unprepared for what happened next.

Lower lip trembling, Celeste silently began to weep – tears falling from open eyes that no longer saw what was in front of them. “What’s wrong…?” Looking down at hands now open in her lap, Gordon picked one up and looked at it more closely. “Sweetie, don’t cry – Jim, look here.”

Flour was ingrained into the lines of the skin on her hands, caked under the fingernails. Whatever had happened to her prior to finding her on the tracks, she had been dressed in a Harvey House uniform – lifting the towel for a closer look, they found she was wearing not a serving apron, but one found in the kitchens, heavy and coarse and liberally coated in flour, sugar and batter spatters. “Did you make these?” A quick head bob in affirmative.

“I don’t get it.” West pulled the desk chair over. 

Wincing, she pushed hair behind one ear. “He said I took too long making them. And there wasn’t enough bread. He hated my bread.”

“So they turned you out, on opening day? “ Incredulous, West looked at Gordon to see the same expression on his face.

“Mr. Harvey hadn’t ever seen me before. He met me, told me my bread was terrible and told me I’d spent too much time making cookies. He said I was more suited to be an entertainer and told me I’d be better served catching a train West to try my luck there.”

“He said that.” Gordon managed the words. West could find none. In the silence that followed, the sound of an orange tomcat scratching at the door, plainting to be let in became clear. “I’ll tell you what. I have a job for you.”

Rising the open the door, Gordon pulled the towel around himself a bit tighter. As the cat leapt into the car, heading straight for the empty chair, Gordon pointed at him. “He’s getting off in Denver. Take care of him until we get there, and you can come with us. Deal?”

Denver wasn’t far, and it was the clear the cat knew how to take care of himself – but an out was an out. West chuckled as the deal was struck between Gordon and a now very bemused Celeste, who studied the now sleeping animal in the chair across from her with some small amusement.

“Oh, and you can make all the cookies you like. Bread – we’ll worry about later.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I am Mr. Gordon, or Artemis…Artie to my friends, young lady.”

“Jim.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

_“We took her to Denver, right? And then couldn’t leave her there.”_

_West slurped his cider loudly. “Yes, Artie. You found out she could cook better than anyone you’d ever met AND she tinkered with your stuff and made everything work better than you EVER could.” He grabbed another cookie from the plate and tossed it into his mouth without looking at it, crunching noisily. “And then there was the matter of that cat – “_

_“Now, now – don’t you start in on on Lazarus….”_

_“He wouldn’t leave, Artie! We ended up taking both of them with all the way to San Francisco !“_

_“Where the President had a contact working in a bakery, and we found her a job there. Problem solved.”_

_“Yeah, except the next time we heard from them – and her – she’d taken that automatic, whatis bread kneading thingie you two came up and she was telling you she’d patented it, wanted to make sure you got a cut from any profits and was it okay? Like you were her father or something.”_

_“It was a huge success. I regret nothing.”_

_“And THEN – she tells us she’s opening up her own bakery. And sends you money!”_

_“Which I re-invested on her behalf.”_

_“And then you two introduced the President to steamed Castella cake. Do you realize what it took to install that steaming device in the White House kitchens?”_

_“It makes the most amazing steamed vegetables as well as desserts. I. Regret. Nothing!” Tossing another cookie in his mouth in the same fashion, Gordon tossed it down with another swig of cider._

_And then they both started laughing._

_“How long was it before she got her first marriage proposal? Six months?”_

_“Oh, I’m not sure.” Gordon sat back, stroking his chin. “But we didn’t settle for anyone who wouldn’t respect that she had made her own fortune in life before coming to marry him. You understand.”_

_“Oh, absolutely Artie. Suuuure.”_

_“I love California that way, yanno? It was the best place for her, no question about it.”_

_“Certainly better than what Harvey House had in mind, right?”_

_“Harvey House. Pffft!” Looking at a now empty plate, he began eyeing West’s. “I think you were right the first time about them.”_

_“When I called them ‘Hardlys’? I stand by that, Artie.”_

_“Here’s to Hardlys!” Toasting with the stoneware mugs, the finished whatever was left and put them down._

_“Hey, Jim – you gonna eat that?”_

**Author's Note:**

> I *take* serious liberties with Fred Harvey and his whole organization, but considering my experiences with the modern version - I *also* regret nothing!
> 
> I hope you love the idea of someone getting the benefit of Artemis Gordon's tinkering and James West's innate sense of fair play and kindness. Somehow, I ended up writing a Christmas story for Yuletide this year - my first time ever.
> 
> Thank you so much for asking for this. I had a ball writing it for you. *^^*


End file.
